Skirmish [SO/GA] The Cleansing of Thule

[Corazona von Ascania]

An invitation?

Cora's brow crinkled delicately, a subtle outward sign of confusion at not only her opponent's words, but also her particular tone of voice.

Why does she sound amused?

The Padawan watched, ready to move, as the graceful Neti made clever use of her prehensile hair. As A'Mia successfully put a little more distance between them, Cora's vague concern deepened into a slight frown. Perhaps it was the heat, the ghosts, her connection with Darth Nwul , or the planet of Thule attempting to reject pinpricks of light from itself like a body purging an infection. It was probably a mix of it all, but her usual laser focus had been rattled.

"Wait! I could take you to him, grant you safe passage-"

Blue eyes widened in genuine surprise, then narrowed sharply. Cora killed her lightsaber, the azure blade winking out as her senses crossed the heated air and searched the chipper woman's feelings. If there was deceit to be had, it was skillfully hidden - and she would've almost preferred that over the authentic concern she felt. This girl was…strange. She felt almost murky in the Force; Madrona A’Mia looked like a bright sunny day, but at the same time, she was overcast. Jarring.

But there wasn't time to pick that apart. The aristocrat righted herself, tightened her mind, and clicked her tongue.

"Resorting to trickery so early on?" Cora rolled the wrist of her free hand in a dismissive gesture, the barest thread of ire weaving into her disappointed tone. "How utterly unbecoming."

The ghastly wails around them only seemed to increase in pitch and volume as the banshees swept towards the assembly building. The people too, seemed to ignite with religious fervor as the darkness spread across Thule's surface, seeping into the planet's core.

The ritual was incredible. She could appreciate that, surprisingly enough. It did not mean that she liked it, or that she approved of what was being done here.

A burst of heat came from the right, scorching against the bare skin of her cheek. With nimble reflexes, Cora sidestepped the flame-wielding civilian, extending a palm outwards as she called upon the Force. Another impassioned pyrokinetic intercepted her from behind, forcing Cora to duck and spin, placing herself behind them both. Her intent was to telekinetically push the pair out of the fray and to the side, but the sudden movement had skewed her trajectory, sending both civilians careening back towards A'Mia with a rush of momentum.

 

[Jonyna Si]

Equipment: red lightsaber, nightsister bow
Suit: xx
Tag: Jonyna Si

She smiled this Jedi would put up a fight as jonyna parried both her blades seeing jonynas sword blocj her lightsaber and then cut through it she put her hilt back on her beltm Astrid couldn't help but wonder how jonyna would do as a sith in the back of her mind. She wouldn't try to turn the knight here especially as she felt the heat rise around the first she was starting to regret her choice in white clothing. As she witnessed the Cathar knight draw the blaster she used before causing astrid to teleport again several feet away from jonyna. "And here I thought Jedi where meant to be honorable nothing honorable about that" she said deflecting a few blaster bolts.

as a group of six civilians charged from around a corner wielding fire Astrid wasted little effort in taking control of their minds. Directing their madness at jonyna each shooting balls of flame at the Cathar allowing Astrid to pull souls of dead Jedi and sith to her quickly and bond them to herself. To empower her next force attack as she fueled the power of the souls and the increased darkside in the area into a force lightning that was a wall of electricity that warped stone and heated metal in its path to jonyna in a wave. Killing the civilians around them "a Cathar is a Cathar you'll look equally well as a rug or a fur coat" she said absorbing the souls of the six dead civilians she just killed. Still holding her ichor blade she stood there waiting for what came next.

​

"Honor? Honor is for people who deserve it."


The moment she deactivated the saber, Jonyna sheathed Sally in the blink of an eye, drawing Liz instead. The teleporting would be tricky, but it wasn't anything new to the Cathar. She recalled her training under Xena, the nightsister rebel who had taken her in. Six people were now dead, not that the fire they shot at her did much. Jonyna's own mastery of the flame, and her armor, had given her supreme defense against the flame.

But then came the Lightning. She brought Liz to bare, as the wall of Sith Lightning disappeared into her blade, the blade now sparking with energy. She couldn't go on the offensive like she usually did. Rather, she waited, focusing on her sense through the force to catch the sith off guard. Closing her eyes, she waited, sword raised above her head still sparking with energy.

"You're not a very good sith if you're dismissing an enemy like that." She retorted. "Cathar have a long history in your culture, don't they? The tale of Crado? Or are you one of those sith that thinks history is for nerds? Do me a favor, next time to look at a history holocron, look me up. Maybe you'll learn some respect for your elders."

Tag: Astrid pentoghast

 

[Jax Thio]

Location: Thule
Equipment: Travelling Robes, Jax's Prosthetic Arm, Jax's Third Lightsaber, Promise Ring to Jairdain
Tag: Pom Stych Tivé

"A man and a woman are more than just tools Pom," Jax said holding on tightly onto Pom's wrists despite her struggling. "They're companions, two halves of a whole. They don't selfishly use each other for their own gain and that's what's Carnifex is doing to you!"

His heart sank when Pom told him that she sired daughters with Carnifex. Jax knew from Spasa that Pom had many children but hearing her saying it in front of Jax's face still hurt. "No," Jax replied to Pom's accusations that it was the Jedi's teachings that made him leave. "The Jedi did all they can to help me when Carnifex wormed his way into my mind. I choose to leave because I thought I was protecting them and my family. I was wrong Pom and I don't want you to end up like I did!"

Jax's body continued to glow bright, the light side of the force entering into Pom. "You're right, I don't know you Pom." Jax replied calmly. "But I know you better than my father and I know that you are conflicted. Let me help you, you're lost Pom and I know how that feels."

Jax then let go of Pom taking a step back forcing her to come wasn't going to work. She was too entrenched in her own beliefs but if Jax continued to show compassion perhaps she could see what he was talking about. "I won't fight you," Jax said. "But I want to help you."

 

[Shasill Kaarte]

Equipment: lightsaber, grappling hook, smoke bombs x3
Tag: Liam Nargon


Shasill grinned as his opponent's blade met his. Sparks exploded from the contact, disappearing in the sand below. The apprentice was about to push down even harder, hoping to break the Jedi's defense, when the man seemed to be having... mental problems. His grin widened. So his mental attack was working. Good to know. Perhaps he could use this later against even weaker opponents.

Shasill stepped back, taking his lightsaber away from his enemy's. He allowed the man time to experience whatever visions in his head. Probably a loss of family, or a close friend. The apprentice realized that he could just cut the man down right here and now and be done with it. But he was having too much fun.

And then, suddenly, the Jedi snapped out of his vision. Rage filled his eyes, and he came forward with a flurry of attacks. For once, Shasill was partially fearful. The Jedi's attacks had such fury imbued in each of them, driving Shasill back meter after meter. He had to stop this...or did he?

If he allowed this man to draw blood on him, maybe that would be enough to turn him dark? No.. there was a better way that would give Shasill two victories. He would regain his composure and counterattack. This would give him the joy of experiencing real, balanced combat. It would also enrage the Jedi more, forcing him to delve deeper into the rabbit-hole of anger for more power. Such a genius Shasill was. Or thought he was.

Just as a quick slash came in from above, Shasill dodged to his left. His lightsaber was already coming around from his right side, ready to cut straight through his opponent's abdomen and cleave him in two. Whether he would kill his enemy, or turn the Jedi into a Sith remained to be seen. It would only take a few seconds.

"Good...use your anger. Your hatred. Those visions that you experienced are the truth, and you are rightful to be furious. Now use that to fuel your power!" Shasill instructed, with a hint of delight in his voice.

 

[Liam Nargon]

Location: Outside of the Last City, Thule
Equipmeint: Nargon Holocron, lightsaber, Fur-line coat
Tags: Shasill Kaarte

Liam’s reckless anger-driven slashes might have been successful in driving Sith in front of him backwards. They might have gotten him closer to his goal of interfering with the ritual. What they didn’t do was help him in any way to defeat the Sith Apprentice he was currently engaged with. They were so completely wild that the Sith was kept on his toes, but the lack of direction and focus made it a sure thing that the outburst was going to do little as far as ending things.

”I lived with my father for ten years. I don’t need you to tell me the truth about him,” Liam spat out in anger as his slashes continued. ”You know nothing about me though. You don’t know my truth. Don’t tell me my rights. You want me angry so that I’m not focused,” the fact that the young Jedi knew what was happening didn’t make it any easier to control his emotions. He was still in a rage and he was still slashing away.

His lightsaber was in the middle of a wild strike when he saw his opponent’s attack. Liam was going to miss, and there wasn’t much he could do to stop his opponent’s attack from landing. He could not get his own blade into place to parry. Liam doubted very much that he would be able to change the momentum of his attack to dodge. In a panic Liam removed one hand from his lightsaber and gathered all the focus he could to push against his opponent with the Force.

His one-handed slash was so out of control that he slashed the ground. Anything remotely flammable would light up in flames. Liam’s push had strength behind it. If his opponent was talented enough to meet his push and maintain ground, Liam would be pushed backwards himself avoiding the blade of the Sith. If the Sith was caught off guard by Liam’s last gasp effort to stay alive Shasill would be pushed backward himself. Whatever the result Liam was mostly safe, but recovering control of his blade would take some effort and he was still drowning in a tempest of emotions.

 

[Shasill Kaarte]

Equipment: lightsaber, grappling hook, smoke bomb x3
Tag: Liam Nargon

Shasill laughed at the man's statement. So the Jedi knew that Shasill wanted him angry, and yet he was still slashing away with rage. Foolish. But that was how powerful anger could be. It could grip someone and never let them go. It would consume them, like it was consuming his opponent now.

The apprentice watched to see what the Padawan would do to counter the crimson blade. He couldn't bring his lightsaber back around in time to deflect the blow...was this duel over? No, of course not. This man was quite stubborn and would probably dodge-

Shasill's eyes widened as the Jedi's hand came off his lightsaber, moving as if to grab the Sith's plasma blade...and suddenly he felt a powerful Force push, no doubt fueled by the man's anger. Shasill braced himself against the impact, crossing his arms on his chest and forming a Force shield in front of him, but his still slid back a good five meters. Surprising. But that wouldn't save the man for long.

Before long, Shasill was back on the offensive, lunging forward, lightsaber pointed at his opponent's stomach. And he realized that his power wasn't coming from his anger. It was coming from amusement. Amusement from the Padawan's anger. Well, Shasill knew the saying. "You learn something new every day."

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

A'Mia cocked her head quizzically to the side while trying to map Corazona von Ascania ’s emotional state. The young woman didn't seem at all afraid which was a nice change of pace since fear in others often drove her to such boredom. Anger? No, more nuanced than that.

"Resorting to trickery so early on?" Cora rolled the wrist of her free hand in a dismissive gesture, the barest thread of ire weaving into her disappointed tone. "How utterly unbecoming."

Suspicion and a sense of puzzlement, that felt closer to the mark. What fun! Before she had a chance to try more diplomacy though her light footed opponent was assailed then successfully rebuffed the aggressive civilians and launched them toward A'Mia. She made a high 'yipping' ululation as she danced out of the way happily, knocking their heads together for good measure with her vines as they flew by, clearly unconcerned about the fact they were technically fighting on her side. She turned back with an even brighter smile than before, this one properly gleaming in her eyes.

"Oops!" She shrugged.

A'Mia flipped the punch daggers into a forward grip, taking a more offensive stance, but she called out in a friendly tone once more. A pack of half a dozen restless specters now bearing down on their location from a side street, perhaps only 30 seconds away.

"No trick, a real offer. I can see how you call to eachother, and would be delighted to reunite old friends."

She rolled her shoulders and that gleam from before made her gaze a bit more sinister though she was still entirely devoid of malice.

"But if you prefer to fight, I'm not the sort to turn down a dance."

 

[Xeykard]

Iris Arani
​

Xeykard regarded the Jedi strangely; very simply, he did not understand what she meant. He had neither the time nor patience to ask her to explain.

"Sith resistance hideouts -- as good information as the Saaraishash can get," he said, pressing the chip into her hand. "Avoid them, unless you have a plan. Otherwise, this one has been tasked with destroying them."

He produced a second chip, from a different pouch. "Communications key. Use it sparsely, and only to listen; do not act yet. They will work for less than a month.

"Now, what do you have for this one?"

 

[Iris Arani]

Iris clutched at the chip before pocketing it with a nod. The colors were still shifting, blinded by the greys of the unnatural dark around her. Even if they weren't there, she didn't have the time to keep pushing him, not if he was so business first. Was that how he was? Her eyes tried to scan through the greys and piece together just how he was feeling, but she couldn't.

Frustrating.

Then she produced her own chip, exchanging it for the second. "Destabilization efforts. The agents identities are not in there, but their plans and the targets are." Nothing that would get someone killed. If things went right, anyway. She clutched it for a moment, knowing full well that the belief no one would die was just a hopeful dream, but handed it over regardless. They were trained to get out if their mission was a bust.

She'd just have to trust that.

"All aimed at hindering the expansion of the Sith."

Xeykard

 

[Zal Aditi]

• Outer Rim | Esstran Sector
• Thule | Neighboring Sith Holy Space
• The Last City
• Tags— Darth Nwul | Darth Caedes | Elmindra Xitaar | Madrona A’Mia | Valery Noble

Heat.
Passion.
Darkness.
Madness.​

Wave after wave of crackling power smashed into Zal as the ritual advanced and intensified, a frenzy of emotion flooding over and through her. Heat rolled out into the city, the speed of the temperature increase making it all the more potent. At the center, Nwul seemed to sizzle with golden power. Whatever his true beliefs on the nature of the Dark Side, his methods were certainly effective - the raw power of the ritual spoke for itself.

As madness rippled outwards from the ritual circle, Zal's mind reeled. In the still and shadowed halls outside the chamber, the mounds of sand she had placed intermittently throughout the passageways now roiled and churned, the Pelko Bugs they housed thrown into frenzy. Madness and confusion flooded the swarms -- swarms that Zal had linked her mind with.

Nausea surged in her stomach and throat as these creatures, native to Korriban's cold deserts, were subjected to the sudden increase in temperature. The beetles did not feel emotions in the same way that more humanoid creatures experienced them, but the creatures were not devoid of feeling; their foreign, insectoid sentiments seethed dizzyingly through Zal's psyche as the madness washed over them.

​

Amongst all of this, her own frustration threatened to overwhelm her. She had failed to account for this effect. She maintained her physical poise, kept herself from doubling over, but could not quite keep back the sound that ripped from her throat - part enraged snarl, part uneasy moan. She pulled away from her contact with the bugs, bringing her focus back until she could orient herself. Her breath -- she was gasping, the impact of the multiplied, fractured madness almost physical in its intensity. She forced herself to steady her breathing, to find a thread of emotion that would let her think. She should have factored these effects in to her plans, especially here, in the epicenter of the storm! She grasped the rage at herself, shifted it, followed it to rage at those who opposed them. Defiance sharpened her faculties, and she took a beat to assess the impact of her misstep.

Pelko bugs, left to their own devices, would not attack a powerful jedi; though their hunger drew them innately to force users, their own survival instinct kept them from any truly suicidal aggression. She had planned to overcome this and press them forward with her own will. The madness and the heat had driven them to a frenzy, though. It was possible her encouragement was unneeded, and their blind aggression would override their self-preservation. If not, she might need a broader, less individualized push to set them against their more powerful enemies. Or, finally, the stress of their environs might simply prove too overwhelming, and kill them.

The next wave hit, and she rode the energy, a thrill of exhilaration twisting through the voracious anger that surged through her. The bugs would serve their purpose, in any eventuality. Alive, they were no small threat; dead, they were harder to detect in the force, and their shells would be no less effective. A single brush of that shell against any foe, and the limb that touched it would go completely dead and numb, as though it had been severed completely. The toxin was potent enough to breach most armor to deliver its blistering, paralytic gift. Victims would fall limp and unmoving, though no less conscious, while the bugs feasted on their force-rich flesh.

Behind the mask, her mouth twisted in gleeful hunger. If all went well, she might still be able to claim a live jedi as a prize of her own.

 

[Darth Caedes]

<< In madness, our... feeble illusions of order crack and... crumble away, unveiling the pure, unfiltered truth beyond. Embrace the chaos my Apprentice, for within its darkness lies the path to a sort of... ultimate clarity. >>
—Darth Caedes to Zal Aditi, prior​

• Outer Rim | Esstran Sector
• Thule | Neighboring Sith Holy Space
• The Last City
• Tags— Zal Aditi | Darth Nwul | Madrona A’Mia | Valery Noble

​

Caedes' eyes snapped open to behold his apprentice, Zal Aditi, before him. For a moment, his eyes seethed predatory and burned red like fire. His skin streeeeeetched and puuuuuulled across an otherwise still face to reveal dry, grey scarification in one second, smooth flesh in another. The Force trembled with the girl's lapse in composure, and so he filled her place in the song. While she snarled and moaned, while the madness threatened to overwhelm her, Darth Caedes was there in the Force, lifting her back up and shouldering her share of Nwul's insidious ritual. He inhaled and let his eyes close once more. Then, when Zal was ready again, when he could feel that readiness in the Force, he exhaled and passed Thule's power back to her.

Briefly, as the closed lids of his eyes throbbed with rapid movement and Caedes settled back into meditation, the Sith Lord reached out with his senses. The world was rife with dark power, spirits and shades of the past conjured forth and plagued with fear and desperation, for they understood their ultimate fate— and it would be far more painful than the limbo to which they had grown accustomed.

He could feel the motes of life, living, sentient beings, as distinct now from the specters of Nwul's beckoning. Many flickered and grew dim in the presence of Thule's sorcerous majesty, their minds torn raw and made mad by the modernized magicks of the ancient Sith. Some remained bright, flaring across the spectrum of the light and dark sides of the Force. The noble Jedi, their belief in the god-like hope sometimes enough to stave off even the deepest of shadows. The Sith, who drew their power from its influence though were ultimately no less susceptible to its maddening influence nevertheless.

Silently, his eyes finally growing still and restful, Darth Caedes mouthed the name 'A'Mia... Madrona...' with his lips, then drifted back into the gathering of power. ​

 

[Valery Noble]

Thule

​

Outfit: Factory Link | Wedding Ring
Appearance: Link
Ship: Link
Weapons: Blasters | Double-Bladed Lightsaber
Tag: Darth Nwul

Darkness swirled all around her.

The air felt thicker, the ground felt difficult to traverse and her mind was fighting its way through shadow with every step she took. It wasn't unfamiliar terrain to the former Jedi Shadow, but Valery couldn't help but wonder how her fellow Jedi were holding up. She had left Corazona von Ascania to handle one Sith, while she could feel the presence of others in their own engagements. Were they going to be alright?

She gritted her teeth and forced those thoughts from her mind. Countless times again, they put their trust in her to be the tip of the blade against the Sith, and now they were doing it again. In turn, she'd have to trust them to hold their own and handle their part of the mission. It can't all rely on one person.

From all around her, Valery watched darker figures approaching — cultists who had been setting the city ablaze. A dark whisper echoed between them, compelling them all to target her specifically. A mistake, as far as she was concerned, because as soon as the flames began to lash out at her, Valery's eyes began to glow. Her hands rose and the sea of fire bent around her like a ring, keeping away those with the intent to kill her.

Despite this attack, Valery would not burn them, and instead siphoned the energy into her body, before releasing a wave of Light all around her, powerful enough to rip away the darkness from their souls, but not enough to kill them.

"You'll have to do better than that, Nwul," Valery said to herself after a short breath escaped her lips. She reached up to swipe away the hair that clung to her forehead, then looked around at her burned surroundings. More of them were coming, and other dangerous spawn were on their way too. She was going to have to move quickly, and as soon as she did, she finally felt his presence reaching out to her. His darkness began beating against her fortress of light, but he wasn't going to break through. If he wanted to bring her down, he'd have to try when she finally reached him.

The Assembly building was right up ahead.

 

[Liam Nargon]

Location: Outside of the Last City, Thule
Equipmeint: Nargon Holocron, lightsaber, Fur-line coat
Tags: Shasill Kaarte

The Force push did its job and then some. Because of the Sith’s attempted defense Liam was pushed back along with his opponent. He gained space even if he gave a meter or so of ground. That wouldn’t be an issue as Liam would be able to take that ground back quickly as he remained in an attack frame of mind and shuffled forward to continue their engagement. Despite knowing that the Sith was trying to get him to act in anger, the effects of the ritual along with Liam’s inexperience made it too much for him to calm down on his own.

As Sith met Jedi once more Liam was not as quick to strike as his opponent which made him take a more defensive stance. He moved his blade to parry the first strike and ground his teeth together as he held tightly to his opponent’s blade with his own. Liam pushed on his blade to create a little bit of space and then he attempted his own attack. His blade in a single hand was given a simple slash at his opponent. He followed that attempt with a kick towards his opponent’s knee. His hope being that his blade would be blocked, but his kick would help limit the Sith’s mobility going forward.

”Calm your thoughts Liam,” A soft calm and familiar voice echoed in Liam’s head. ”Anger will take you to a place you don’t want to be. The darkside is strong in this place, at this moment. If you let it bend you to its will you risk being lost forever.”

As he completed his assault, Liam noticed that his pocket was glowing. His ancestral teachers were speaking to him. ”You are distracting me. Am I any better to the galaxy if I’m dead?” Liam snapped back.

Liam then felt the calming press hard at his consciousness. Words came as Liam became more receptive to the message. ”You are angry at your father. And there is validity to this. You can’t find your mother if you fall or are killed. You need to use what you have learned to fight this fight smart. There is a way to win without losing yourself.”

Liam suddenly became more calm, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath and allowed the Force to enter into him. For a moment the ritual made his emotions flare once again, but he was able to sift out the distracting dark emotions and funnel his thoughts to the light. He readied himself for the Sith’s reaction. Despite the repression of his anger, Liam still knew that he couldn’t go completely defensive. He still needed to win this bout and stop the ritual.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

From beneath her furrowed brow, Cora watched the Neti woman skip out of the way, bonking a pair of civilian heads together with her vines. The blonde winced, now wary of the two new unconscious obstacles she'd unwittingly placed in the path between her and her opponent.

Brilliant.

"Call to eachother?"

Cora's upper lip curled into a sneer at the notion that she was calling out towards Darth Nwul . Which she was, to be fair - but Madrona A’Mia ’s bright, chipper demeanor made it seem like something more. Which…it sort of was. But she was upset with him, with what he was doing to this world, and with herself.

A part of her knew that she was playing into the Neti's hands, but she'd been forced to suppress her anger and irritation underneath Horace for so long that tasting her own ire was addictive. It didn't help that Thule itself seemed to be driving her emotions.

Keep yourself in check, foolish girl.

Ah, I'm beginning to sound like father.

A deep breath of burning, humid air, hold, then release. A measure of clarity rallied against the tides of passion, against the scream and howl of the specters that would descend upon them soon. The exiled Princess watched as the taller woman loosed her shoulders and brandished her blades, something more mischievous in her playful demeanor than before.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

Spreading both arms out to the side, palms up, Cora drew on the Force, preparing to repel the oncoming ghouls.

"But I did not come here for a reunion."

Her head cocked to the side, loose blonde locks dancing briefly across her vision.

"Is there no other way for you to stand down?"

 

[Astrid pentoghast]

Equipment: red lightsaber, nightsister bow
Tag: Jonyna Si

Astrid stood there "fair enough" she said standing there she watched Jenyna and watched her own sith lightning get absorbed into the sword jonyna was wielding. She was intrigued to a degree but not enough to divide her attention to figuring out how the blade worked as it sparked with power. And electricity she figured jonyna was up to something.

"You have countered me at every turn but maybe my goal here isn't to truly fight you but to stall you so this ritual may succeed for some welp to reach for power" she said standing there. She was being truthful a rare thing for her to do when speaking to a Jedi or an opponent. "Cathar are a proud warrior people but what have they really achieved on their own sure you have heros but what race doesn't" She spoke back.

"And as far as crado is concerned he followed his masters orders but in the end he died betrayed by his master to deal a blow to the Jedi crado died a pawn" she said and then smiled evilly "and what am I supposed to learn about a Jedi from the clone wars am I supposed to respect the fact that you didn't die to order 66 or that you didn't help rhe rebels fight the empire and here you are almost nine hundred years later what can't fight evil unless you have a complete jedi order backing you" she said coldly.

astrid then teleported in baiting jonynas attack as she swung her ichor blade at jonynas midsection before teleporting again. Behind jonyna to let a concentrated scream at jonyna from a few feet behind her.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Jax Thio ​

'Jax sees conflict in me?' Perhaps she shouldn't have worn the wine red lipstick afterall. That must be it, because she can't imagine what else she could possibly fret over in life. Family… prestige… knowledge… experience, she has it all. If something is missing, she must have little need for whatever it is!

As Jax let go of her, Pomsty popped open a charmed vial behind her back. What she came for that can only be provided right here and now, became immediately attracted right to her vial, and willingly slipped inside it. The Nightsister reset the cork again with ease, and slipped the filled vial into her bandolier. Dark energy inside of it swirled.

"I am not sorry, Jax. I'm in my element right here. Your light makes me nauseous. This is where I have always belonged. If you stay however, and try to stop this magick the Priests have cast, you will be very sorry." Jax might not have realized it up to this moment, but that Light show he had generated, is the only reason he hasn't yet been attacked by the affects of the Sith spell.

"Maybe you should save some of the lives here instead." She looked at the planet being squeezed in a frenzy of magick, and it appears her host is doing a fine job at whatever he has planned. "But if I were you, I would hurry up about it, and leave while I still can." Carnifex has a strict rule about murdering any of his many offspring, planted around the galaxy. He is certain his seed will spread, and alter the hearts of men in his favor over time.

"Had we been born in one another's shoes, you would understand me, and I you."

Pomsty waved a hand and tore open her doorway to the Nether once again. As soon as she did so, an exchange began between the spirits trapped on the planet and those from the afterlife. Sometimes, someone will step through who has a past relationship to someone standing near her…

​

 

[Jonyna Si]

"and what am I supposed to learn about a Jedi from the clone wars am I supposed to respect the fact that you didn't die to order 66 or that you didn't help rhe rebels fight the empire and here you are almost nine hundred years later what can't fight evil unless you have a complete jedi order backing you"

​

"Wow that's...all wrong." She swung her blade around, having waited for exactly when she would go in for a strike. Liz was ready, blocking the Ichor blade. As soon as her opponent teleported again, she raised a hand, ready to react. Controlling the air behind her, she emptied the air from the space right behind her, preventing the sound from hitting her.

"I never fought in the Clone Wars. I took down star destroyers alongside the rebels. Did survive Order 66, so I'll take that compliment." She smirked, "And I don't need anyone to help me beat you. You really think I'm here to stop the ritual? No, that's Val's job. I'm just here to clear a path. So Nyeh! Maybe do your research before you try and insult me, poser."

Faster than the eye could see, she swung around, slashing the open air with Liz at her opponent, the lightning sparking back at Astrid pentoghast in retaliation. "Now how 'bout you like, chill."

 

[Darth Nwul]

TW: Body Horror​

The world shook.

The presence of the light that had clung to the planet, melding with the larger dark-side alignment, was fading. Burned and converted into fuel for something incredible. The illusory clouds around the assembly hall roiled and bent, shuddering with a sudden pulsation in the force. An enormous disturbance in the force was building, the Jedi had visions of this, this is what the council had forseen and sent the Jedi to stop. A psionic release of darkness so vast it could traumatize the unprotected force sensitives and padawans across the galaxy. A wave of taint.

It was nothing more than a byproduct of what had already begun.

Whisps of power that had once been rising into the sky exploded outward, spreading across the clouds above and turning them black. The barrier that had once been protecting the Assembly Hall began to thin. Specters howling in triumph as they crossed the threshold to enter. Each time they did, they howled in agony and were dissolved, crushed into etheric dust that was then drawn into the sky. One Jedi, unwittingly crossing the threshold himself, unaffected. Only the dead were consumed. Another pulse ripped through the air and the clouds above trembled, thunder clapping as a bolt of force lightning struck the ground leaving the heady odor of ozone in its wake.

Within the chamber, the Steward of the Dark Side let out a gasp, his hands raised to the sky once more. The coils of darkness in the air had begun to rush into him, heat rising, pressure building. Golden power burned in his eyes and spread across his face beneath his skin, veins of blazing light spreading further across his skin down from his neck and to his chest and shoulders. The pain intensified, an agony greater than any he could have imagined burning through his body. More tendrils of power struck his skin, the dark side pouring into him as his eyes rolled up and he fell to his knees. His voice rising as blood dripped from his nose only to stop then start abruptly. His body being crushed and restored over and over by the ritual.

He drew a breath even as another shock of pain wracked through him, forcing the words out. Unlike the spell-like prayer that had come before, this next stage was more of a chant. "SHASOT. TYUK. MIDWAN. ASHA." His voice came as a low rumble, the words ripping from his chest and broadcasting into the air. The words very nearly carrying into the city. He struggled to rise but the power beat him back down, his fingertips drawing blood as they dug into the floor beneath him. He clenched his teeth as his skin rippled like a pond that had been disturbed. Pain exploded in his mind.

Outside, rain began to fall. Black streaks striking the ground and suffusing into the earth wherever it struck. It slid across bare skin, stinging but not leaving any lasting damage. Where it struck soil within the city, grass began to grow. The planet shook again and the humidity rose in intensity, heat building.

Nwul gasped and drove forward, unwilling to break with the ritual. He could hear the screams of the specters as they destroyed themselves outside, the area in which the spell was consuming the specters was growing wider and wider. He could feel their essense becoming part of the ritual, broken down into their most basic parts and consumed by him, ready to be regurgitated into something new. His momentary smile was shattered by another wave of pain and the side of his robes, just beneath his arm, exploded. Another arm ripping its way out of his body. The agony made him nauseous, he wanted to black out, to let it all end, to die, but he kept going. "CHWUQ. SAUD. HADZUSKA. XELA." He bellowed at the limb just as it shrank and returned to his-

His face contorted and he forced his expression to calm, slamming his fists onto the ground as his legs turned into stumps before returning to normal. He restrained the scream that was building in his chest, the hair falling from his head only to regrow again. Skin flaked from his body and regenerated in the same moment. He grew larger by an inch, then two, his chest heaving with the exertion as power was forced into him as a condiuit for the spell warping the spirits of this world and terraforming it. The ritual, a modification of deeply ancient sith sorcery, was certianly not on the level of spells that destroyed civilizations... but it was enough.

The plantlife across the planet exploded into growth as the rains increased, puddles forming. The once barren word turning green visibly from space as if a timelapse was taking place. Trees began to grow in places as the presence of the light became dimmer and dimmer. Vines took root and spread across buildings, horrific moments of creatures being born, growing, dying and repeating the cycle were growing more frequent. The unnatural restoration of a world. A dessicated world converted into a jungle of violence and death. Filled with life. The specters howled in fury, racing across the planet in desperation to stop what was happening, unwittingly throwing themselves towards the spell that would undo them.

Nwul slammed his head against the floor, blood spilling from his nose, forhead, and eyes. "DZIA. SAARAI. SIQSA. CHWAYAT." He croaked, his flesh twisting on his back, tentacles forming for a moment before receding back into his body. Blood and tears dripped from his face as he pulled himself back up again, struggling against the growing presence of the dark side in his body, the intensity of the spell spilling out from him and crashing into the priests nearby. One of them cried out in horror and tore his own eyes out. Another simply crumpled to the ground, dead. Nwul ground his teeth and focused, he had to finish soon. Val was approaching. He could sense her.

One more line, then as long as he lived, the spell would continue.

His lips parted, "VISUOM." The word echoed across the city.

"HYAL." His body warped again, snapping back like a rubber band. His hair had grown long, his body aged and refined, his fingernails longer long and pointed, the glow beneath his skin now permanent. He coughed up blood as his body healed itself again, "SITH." He hissed in a pool of his own blood, the power of the dark side forcing him to wake up with another bout of agony. He convulsed, shooting up until he was back on his knees, his back straight. The rain outside was now loud enough to be heard inside the building, lighting cracked in the sky. She was getting closer. One more...

"SHASOT." He choked out and the power he had collected and formed was sent hurtling towards the sky, a great deal staying behind as his own now. The rest spread out. Those who participated in the ritual were infused with dark might, a gift from the Dark Side and the Lord of Passion. Then the Sith throughout the city were blessed by his love, power infusing them.

Nwul remained on his knees, his chest heaving, fragments of skin and flesh falling off like clay. His role directing the ritual was complete, but it would take time for the spell to do its work. If he died, all would be lost and Thule would return to it's previous barren state.

"The Jedi is coming, Caedes," Nwul wheezed, "The spell needs time to do it's work, I will recover soon."

---

ROUND 4 CONDITIONS (9/23/23)

• The intensity of the dark side is now nearing its pinnacle and the light is fading fast. The humidity is now joined with stinging black rain and a storm of force lightning over the city. Plants are growing of their own accord on any patch of dirt. Emotions have now hit a fever pitch.
• The ripples of madness and regret have subsided, all force sensitives can sense the building bubble of a major force disturbance beneath the surface of the planet.
• The specters are still attacking the living, but have become more frantic! Some are dissolving into screams of pain and anguish.
• Civilians are intensifying their attacks in some areas while retreating into their homes or falling to their knees in prayer in others.
• Nwul is too weak to lash out and affect the battles of others, his interference has ended!
• Nwul will recover on round SIX.
• The ritual portion of the spell is complete, so long as he survives the spell will continue to do its work.

*Passion. Strength. Power. Victory.
Ember. Fire. Shadow. Pain.
Joy. Truth. Demon. Law.
World. Crave. Perfect. Struggle.

 

[Shasill Kaarte]

Equipment: lightsaber, grappling hook, smoke bomb x3
Tag: Liam Nargon

Shasill's blade met resistance against his opponent's, but that was all well and good. As long as the Padawan didn't gain ground, all would be alright. The man suddenly pushed Shasill back, and lashed out with a one-handed swing. Shasill easily bashed it aside. Fool, what does he think this will accompli-

His thoughts were interrupted as something flew at his lower body...a kick. Kriff, why didn't I see that coming?

Shasill's dodge was too late to evade the kick entirely, but it did not land at its target. The attack smashed into his left thigh. Thankfully, it wasn't as damaging as it would be if it hit his knee.

Shasill snarled as he noticed his opponent suddenly becoming more calm. His pocket was glowing... strange. The apprentice reached out a hand, using the pain in his left thigh to fuel his power, and tried to pull the glowing object from the Padawan's pocket.

And as he did that, he felt a small sting on his right arm...then his left, then all over. Acid rain? Black sprinkles cascaded from the heavens, sprouting plants everywhere. The sand was being swallowed by vegetation, and thunder boomed above. So the ritual was proceeding well. Excellent.

Soon, this Padawan would have failed his mission, whether he died or not.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Tag: Darth Caedes and Darth Nwul

Many things occurred all at once and A'Mia's attention split briefly to analyze four threads of reality in the scant few seconds she had to make a move. First, she saw a single errant specter throw itself against the barrier which had thinned in the most recent phase of the ritual. It gave her an idea about the others bearing down upon them.

The next thing that registered within her mind, that seemed to reverberate around every part of her being, was that she was being watched. Not physically watched but rather within the force. The presence was strangely familiar to her though she could not quite place why or from where. The sensation had a physiological effect, causing every fiber of her body to stand on end and reach toward its source. It made her look like an ominous woody Medusa, tendrils of plantlife seeking the center of the assembly building.

The third line of thought did not so much call to her as it did bludgeon her every sense. The ritual's effect was apparent all around them but became overwhelmingly obvious as her form writhed and bulked with the sudden influence of darkness and stinging rain. Plants sprung up along the edges of the road, through cracks in the stone, and the once shapely form of A'Mia grew alarmingly until she was a hulking colossus. The experience was sharp, painful and disorienting, but also exhilarating. For her part, Corazona von Ascania could hear the creaking rend of woody flesh as her opponent expanded and grew denser. Where once she faced a perhaps relatable humanoid combatant, now she stood before a looming elemental. Jarringly her voice rang out just as bright and beautiful as before.

"Afraid not, little bird. Reconsider my offer?"

Before the last word had even left her lips she was charging. She still had all the frightening lithe speed of a dancer but it was now backed up with all the raw force of an avalanche. The Neti zagged on her way, and instead of striking to bleed her opponent she struck out with Phrik blades to provoke defense of her core. Sneaky snaking vines whipped with as yet hidden alusteel daggers, the pommels of which she aimed to bash against the back of Cora's skull in a stunning strike.